Ryu no Koe
by Joak Drysso
Summary: In a modern world, one man strives to survive amidst assassins. One girl fights for her younger brother. Destiny leads them to another, and all hell breaks loose. Sou/Mi. R&R!
1. Forever Alone

Ryu no Koe

Voice of Dragon

A Soujiro/Misao fanfic done by

Joak Drysso

Inspired by: Practically anyone who wrote a Sou/Mi story, most notably DarkflamesSolitude, Phoe-chan, and though the author's story wasn't a Sou/Mi fic, The Gramarye, with Rurouni Soujiro! Read their works or perish!

Foreword: Well, I'm back, with my first, hopefully not last, Soujiro/Misao story. And I've decided to make a comeback here at ff.net, after a long vacation off in whatever la la land I've been vacationing in. Here we go!

Chapter 1-Forever Alone

"The money, sir." Whoever was on the receiving end of this cold, emotionless message suddenly froze up upon hearing it, looking around frantically. "Y-y-y-your money. Right! How much was it? Thirty grand, wasn't it?" A foot stepped out of the darkness, and the man finally realized just _who _he was trying to rip off. "Uhh…I meant fifty! That was the price we decided on, right? Right?" He was barely spacing his sentences with all the urgency and fright that one would expect from a politician having been cornered by one of the deadliest assassins alive. "S-Seta-san, please, you have to forgive me! I've been so busy lately what with trying to cover up the fact that everyone started pointing fingers at everyone in the race and-" Another step was taken forward and the cold, emotionless face of Tenken no Soujiro appeared, eyes narrowing slightly. "Spare me your pathetic groveling you political hack! Just give me the money and you'll ensure your continued survival, unless one of your other competitors decides to hire me." With that, not even waiting for an answer, the assassin walked over, and snatched up the case that contained well over the amount, knowing that the fool wasn't stupid enough to try and stop him.

Then he heard the _click _of a gun being cocked back and didn't even bother to start running, but rather slowly turned, that haunting smile taking form on his face. "Stop smiling you bastard!" _BANG, BANG, BANG!_ Three shots went off, and all three were deflected almost instantaneously. The first two penetrated the walls on either side of the politico, the third splintering the desk in front of him. Another set of quick movements brought him over the desk and his blade, the carbon black katana that was aptly named Yami no Ken, right up through the barrel of the gun. He watched the politico sweat before giving the man a harsh shove that knocked him into the window. The weak panes groaned under the sudden intense strain and the idiotic mayor-in-running paled considerably more, making him look like a vampire in one of the old horror flicks. "Never, _never_ think to cross me, fool. I can stop whatever you decide to throw at me."

Of course, as Soujiro left the building, the unsheathed sword as well as the case of money earning him odd looks from everyone there, the assassin realized he had pretty much signed his own death warrant. Though the man would never publicly admit to meeting with the assassin, which would have pointed almost every finger at him for the death of one of the major runners in the race for the title of mayor, he could always hire a hoard of assassins to make passes at him, and eventually he would wear out, or not wake up in time, or not be fast enough, and he would die. But then again this had never bothered him. He was probably the most open-minded about life and death, not really preferring one or the other. Of course, he'd never experienced death, but he'd been in close enough spots in order to serve the same effect. All he could do for the time being was continue about his daily business and take them down as they came.

His first stop was one of the malls. It was nearly Christmas, which meant that there were a lot of Christmas Angels around. He grabbed quite a few of them, checked them over, and then left immediately. His next stop was one of the bigger toy shops, where, with his recently acquired money, bought some extravagant gifts for them, but made sure that was still tied in to what they wanted. A small smile came to his face unbidden. He may be an assassin, but he was still more of a simple man, and often used his money to help with the lesser fortunate. Again he left the place, finishing off his little trip at the nearest homeless charity. The person working the station saw him and her eyes immediately came alight. "Soujiro-kun! I haven't seen you for a while. Where've you been?" Soujiro grinned sheepishly, putting his hand behind his head. "You know me Yumi-san, I have duties that require a lot of attention."

The light in her eyes dimmed slightly as she looked at the man she had dated a few years back, when he'd first started donating. Things had gone sour when she learned of his occupation, but she'd tried to stay with him. In the end it was he who broke it off, knowing that if something happened he didn't want her to feel so bad. Luckily, they managed to stay good friends, and he was always dropping by at least once a month with a large amount of money-_blood money_, Yumi thought, trying not to think of the money as being rightly made. Even so, the man was so damn charitable, bringing such large amounts of money to donate. Already many of the homeless people were beginning real lives, getting worthwhile educations and making money of their own. Not just on Soujiro's donations alone, but rather the fact that he knew how to get the money to the people without the government getting their grubby little hands on it. Whenever she asked him about it though, he would shake his head, shrug, and offer her a secretive smile that filled her with dreams of being with him again.

"So, Yumi-san, how've you been?" The voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her from the past into the present, and her eyes widened quite a bit as she saw just how much he'd made on his last assignment. "I've been….good. You know, Sou-chan, if you keep donating like this there won't be anymore homeless charities, or charities period. Then where would I be able to meet such great guys?" She said, offering him a wink before collecting the money, counting the rolls, her eyes getting wider and wider with each ten thousand. "Soujiro…this…this is nearly one hundred and fifty thousand! You've never donated that much before!" The man blushed and muttered something that she couldn't make out, but the woman decided not to press the matter and clicked the case back up, setting it underneath her items so that no one saw it. After all, she worked a nasty neighborhood and was mostly trying to keep their meager donations from being stolen. "Well, Soujiro-kun, I suppose you'd better get home before you catch a cold. The weather here is frightfully cold, and you're not even wearing a jacket!" Again, Soujiro blushed, realizing that he was in fact not wearing anything other than a shirt, jeans, shoes, and his…accessories. "I guess…I should go. I'll see you later Yumi-san." A nod and small look passed between them, before he turned away and started off. During that brief exchange the slippery road to calling her back to him had yawned at his feet. He had been so close to asking her, but he just…couldn't. Hell, he knew she would jump at the offer, he knew she wanted it, but the very thought of breaking her heart was just too much for him to bear.

He snapped out of his musings and found himself, not at his comfortable mountain home, but rather even deeper in the city. A shiver came to him from the cold air, and he glanced around, hearing the distant sound of gunshots. Gang violence, he knew from experience. He just decided to leave it alone. Up until he heard a sudden scream of pain that was relatively nearby, along with a war cry of "Kono yarou!" and the sound of numerous physical blows connecting. His form instantly disappeared, going from walking to Shuku-chi instantly. He'd learned by now how to reach the Shuku-chi without tapping his foot against the ground, a skill that had taken considerable time and patience. He reached the alleyway in a flash, not having yet drawn his sword, distracted by the sight in front of him.

A woman that could be no older than he was threw a punch at one of the assaulters, knocking him back. She instantly disarmed him, throwing the knife right at Soujiro without even realizing it. The assassin calmly snatched it out of the air, flinging it at one of the gangsters that had been approaching the girl from her back. The blade embedded itself in his forehead and he slumped over, prompting a younger cry. A small red-headed kid whom Soujiro estimated to be about eight years of age rocketed out and accidentally ran into Soujiro, and instantly took cover behind the man. A small smile blossomed on his face before he looked back up.

Let no one ever say that Makimachi Misao wasn't a good fighter. She was defending herself and the child admirably, but the superior numbers and unfamiliar street styles that held absolutely no pattern or rhythm where overwhelming her. She watched Shinta hide behind some man who looked too innocent to be the one to have killed the one that snuck up on her, but she knew it was him nonetheless. She raised her arms to block the oppressive strikes aimed, and when they wrenched them aside she closed her eyes in anticipation of the strike. When it never came, she opened her eyes and was very, _very_ surprised to see all of the men lying in bloody heaps. In the middle of the chaos stood the man, calmly cleaning his katana. "It seems that the child has sustained an injury. I'll need to take him back to my place to clean him up, since no hospital would be able to believe this happened in the household. He'll be fine, but only if we move fast." She blinked, trying to forget the fact that she was surrounded by dead men long enough to hear what he said. "Shin-chan is hurt?!" She ran over to the small child, crouching down and beginning to assess the wound, and immediately found he was right-the cut the child had sustained during the earlier stages would be just a bit too curious for the people at the hospital to ask questions about. So she could either accept the man's terms or, as she seemed to think, he would take the child even if she didn't go. With a nod of agreement she scooped the child up into her arms, giving him a supportive smile before yelping as she herself was lifted off the ground. And then the world around her sped up and everything became a blur, and she instantly passed out, the man's loud curse as her arm uncurled from around the boy the last thing she heard.

Phew. First chapter done. Short, yes, but then again every single one of my stories seems to be small. Oh well. I'll work on upping the length, but I wanted to get this out so I decided to write off half of it until the next chapter. Well, minna, that's it. Read and review, let me know what you think!


	2. A Life of Misery

Ryu no Koe

Voice of Dragon

A Soujiro/Misao fan fiction by

Joak Drysso

Chapitre Deux: A Life of Misery

**__**

What has gone on before…

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"Shin-chan is hurt?!" She ran over to the small child, crouching down and beginning to assess the wound, and immediately found he was right-the cut the child had sustained during the earlier stages would be just a bit too curious for the people at the hospital to ask questions about. So she could either accept the man's terms or, as she seemed to think, he would take the child even if she didn't go. With a nod of agreement she scooped the child up into her arms, giving him a supportive smile before yelping as she herself was lifted off the ground. And then the world around her sped up and everything became a blur, and she instantly passed out, the man's loud curse as her arm uncurled from around the boy the last thing she heard.

**__**

And now the continuation…

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Misao's eyes snapped open and she bolted up in bed, a cry of "Shin-chan!" escaping her. She glanced around frantically, identifying nothing, and realized that this was not her house. Then memory came back and she gasped, remembering Shinta's rather large wound. And of course, that motherly instinct kicked in and she dashed out of bed, ignoring the fact that her legs were rather weak at that point in time. She opened the door and came face to face with the man who'd saved her before. She screamed in shock, jumping back and throwing a fist straight at the man, who easily caught it, twisting her arm and pinning it behind her back as she winced in pain. "Calm down and I'll let go. Otherwise I'll keep your arm pinned here and occasionally make it a bit tighter until your arm breaks." His voice was amazingly cheerful for someone who could pretty much tear her arm off if he wanted to. So she stopped struggling and he let go. She immediately whirled around, spitting him on the harshest glare she could muster given the circumstances, and immediately blinked, looking at the guy standing before her as though he was crazy. "Why the hell are you smiling?!" She shouted angrily, tears welling up on the sides of her eyes. "Shinta is hurt and you're smiling, damn you!" The man's smile faltered, but then he gained control and it came back full force, the sheer pleasantness of it literally foiling her bad mood, but she wouldn't give up for a minute.

And then a motion of his hand caught her eye and in trotted the eight-year old Shinta Himura, her younger half-brother. She let out a squeal of joy and ran to him, picking him up in a bear hug, which the child yelped from and the man's eyes widened. "Stop! You'll screw up the stitches!" She froze then, and set the child down. Despite the flash of pain, Shinta seemed intent on gluing himself to his older sister's legs. She was so transfixed with happiness that the wounds weren't entirely serious that she didn't notice the man's hand extended toward her until he spoke. "Seta Soujiro." She stared stupidly at him, her mind drawing a complete blank. "My name. It's Seta Soujiro." She suddenly blushed a bright red and took her hand, shaking it. "Mine is Makimachi Misao, and I'm sure you already know my younger half-brother." The man nodded, offering her another smile that made her dizzy, and a small pinkish tint formed on her cheeks. "As you can see, Shinta-kun is okay, but I had to stitch up the wound, so he shouldn't be doing any serious movements lately. Tell me something, Makimachi-san." She glanced at him, trying to be suspicious, but failing horribly every time she looked at that smile. The man seemed so…innocent and helpful that there was no way she could deny him at least a chance to ask the question. "Yes?"

Soujiro's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the misty blue of his eyes focusing on the girl…no, woman, rather, in front of him. "Where did you learn to fight like that? I can't say I know that style and that's quite impressive, considering I know quite a few hand to hand styles myself." Makimachi blushed, her glance aiming now to the ground, and the hitokiri smiled. "It's my own style. It took me a long time to come up with the moves and names for them, but I did come up with it. And Shin-chan was my first student. He's still young though, but against someone just a bit bigger than him, he can hold his own." She patted Shinta's head and the red-haired child offered him the biggest, goofiest smile Soujiro had ever seen. It really did warm his heart to see such a family, and it pained him that none of that would every be his. It was…hard to explain, even to himself. He just knew that he would never marry, never have a child. It was too risky given his position. "Well, Makimachi-san, would you mind if I sparred with you?" She blinked, looking up. "It has been a while since I sparred, so your original style has quite a chance of beating me. However, don't be too surprised if I have a few tricks of my own." She nodded numbly and followed Soujiro out of the house, followed faithfully by Shinta.

About a minute later he opened the door to his training hall, a building so covered in snow that he wouldn't have been able to find if he wasn't looking for it. Misao and Shinta ran inside, shivering madly as Soujiro closed the door. Two quizzical glances were thrown his way as he ran over to one side, but their eyes widened when he pulled down on one of the walls to reveal a small bar-like area that housed a selection of coffees, hot chocolate, and other random, alcoholic drinks. Soujiro himself just took a strong black, while the other two were perfectly happy with the hot chocolate. The taste of coffee willed what parts of him that had numbed during the walk back to life, and as soon as he was done, he began to stretch, shrugging off the thick coat. The shirt he wore followed next, revealing a finely-tanned, lithe, firm figure. Misao was transfixed by the view, and when he caught her looking her face took on a color similar to tomatoes, and she looked away quickly. Soujiro merely smiled to himself. '_Baka! Why are you thinking of impressing her already? Have you finally decided to get over Yumi?'_ He blanched as the Tenken spoke to him, and shook his head. _/Iie. I'm just making myself more at home for the sparring match, thank you./_ The tart reply was from the actual Soujiro, the child that seemed to be trapped in a man's body.

"Are you ready, Makimachi-san?" The girl's head snapped up surprised, but she nodded, dropping into a fighting stance, and Soujiro knew it was her own when he didn't recognize it. It certainly held elegance though, along with a promise to deliver as much pain as it possibly could. So he dropped into his own stance, one _she_ wouldn't be familiar with. He had "conveniently" forgotten to mention his own style of fighting, deciding to test it out on her. He knew this would be an interesting battle, at the least, but he would see the limits on this girl. He wondered if she would pull any punches, but decided to show her that he wouldn't. If she didn't actually start fighting after that, he would use his more…unique…talents.

It started then and there, with both of them launching straight at each other, emerald eyes narrowed at sky blue, and vice versa. They moved right past each other, and Soujiro felt a small bit of pain in his side, but heard two thumps, the first as Misao's feet hit the ground, the second as the gentle push he'd given her brought her off balance and she hit the ground. He turned around just in time to see a snap kick flying at him, and he spun, his elbow arcing in and connecting with her ribcage. However, Misao herself had a few tricks of her own, and she used that attack, ignoring the pain that suddenly seared through her body, to grab his elbow, and much to the assassin's surprise, she planted her feet in his side, forced her back on the ground, rolled, then let go of his hand arm and delivered a very powerful kick to his midsection that sent him flying. She watched in satisfaction as he neared the wall, and then her eyes widened quite a bit when he rolled in midair, his feet hitting the wall, and then he pushed off, coming at her faster than she would have imagined possible. She didn't even have time to prepare for the blow, nor the ten others that connected with her stomach and arms. But strangely, she hadn't even seen his arms moving. Just the first punch, and then she felt another ten hit her, but his hand seemed to remain where it was. The force behind them knocked her back, and she winced in pain as she set herself in stance again. She would _not_ lose to him so early. A minute hadn't even passed and she was feeling more injured than she'd ever been. Apparently the man was better than he had stated earlier, if not just because he knew exactly where to hit in order to cause the most damage.

In a moment of anger she roared a battle cry and leapt at the man, her fists flying, all of the attacks connecting with the surprised man. However, as that moment dragged on less and less started connecting, and then none where. That was when he opened the counter offensive, starting as a duck below her main attack, his right leg connecting with the backs of hers, and she blinked as the sweep knocked her feet out from under him. But before she could position her arms to bring herself back up his free leg connected with her side, which knocked Misao up into the air a few feet. More than enough time for Soujiro to get on his feet and then launch himself after her, his hands wrapping around her sides and twisting to ram her into the floor. However, Misao had a different plan in mind and her arms suddenly shot up to grab Soujiro's head, pulling down and spinning them until he hit the floor, the damage made even worse by her additional weight pressing on him. She clambered off, trying to press her advantage, and aimed a kick at the man's now-prone form. He rolled off to the side, his hand coming up to trap her foot, and then wrenched it to the side. Misao, not wanting to have a broken ankle, followed the motion and ended up on her back, her foot still held by the man. A swift blow was given to Soujiro's hand by her free leg, and she rolled, now free from his grip, up onto her feet, emerald eyes flashing admirably and dangerously. Her breathing was slightly heavy, but she was enjoying the moment. It had been far too long since she'd had a spar with someone like this. "Pretty good, Sou-CHAN." The assassin only smiled, not bothering to dignify her teasing with a response. Instead, he leaned forward, his form blurring. Misao's eyes widened drastically until she felt a ridiculously painful impact in her gut, forcing some blood up into her throat and out of her mouth. Following that body-stretching hit was a double overhand blow that struck her on one side of her back, once when she was on his knee, the second when she wasn't and she ended up thrown into the floor. However, she rebounded quickly and executed a roundhouse that caught Soujiro perfectly in the stomach, and with such force that he flew a good five yards. She cracked her knuckles before charging in, aiming an uppercut that connected with the assassin's jaw, followed by a jumping snap kick that rocked Soujiro's head back. As the man started in an arc to hit the ground his legs wrapped around hers and tightened, and at that instant they both hit the ground. They separated, staring at each other and breathing heavily. A smile came to Soujiro and he pulled a coin out of the pocket of his jeans. "This fight will be over before the coin touches the floor." With that he merely turned his hand over and released it, his form disappearing as he did so. Misao called upon the years of training and jumped forward, preparing herself for the most intense nanosecond she'd ever experience. Then it passed, and Soujiro reappeared, eyes closed, and Misao landed on one knee. And then she feel over, not out of unconsciousness, but rather a lack of energy.

Neither Soujiro nor Misao noticed the coin hit the ground, but Shinta did, and immediately raced into the arena, chanting "Sugoi!" over and over again. The chibi redhead dashed over to his half-sister, then to the assassin, and then back, his eyes wide. He'd missed some of the fight, but a lot of it he'd been able to follow, even at his age. That was an experience he doubted he'd ever witness outside of the sparring matches he hoped they would have again. "Ano…Seta-san." He tugged at the man's arm curiously, drawing the assassin's attention from the bit of blood trickling from his lip. "Can you teach me to fight like you?"

__

That got Misao's attention, and she turned around, sputtering angrily. Shinta heard this, turned around and smiled. "C'mon Mi-neesan, I'll still train under you, but I want to learn how to fight like Seta-san too!" He smiled at her, and she knew at once that she couldn't resist him. So she just sighed, shook her head and tried to look angry. "Very well." Shinta cried and tackled her, and she laughed, forgetting about all her battle injuries until she hit the ground, and that's when they really started raising hell. "Ne, Sou-chan, you wouldn't happen to have a place to clean up here?" A look passed over him and he shook his head. "Not here, but at the house I do." Misao gave an agitated sigh. '_Just great.'_ "Lead on, o smiling one, and us lowly villagers will follow you." Her voice was overly thick with sarcasm, which surprised the both of them, and Soujiro's frown faltered before he turned away, readying himself for the return trek. "As you wish, Makimachi-_dono."_

She winced at the formality, and sighed. She knew she deserved it, and resigned herself to letting the man be angry at her. Better that then having him leave them there, although a nagging part of her knew that he would never even consider such a thing. Feeling worse off now than she had ever been other than perhaps once before, she trudged sulkily after Soujiro, her heart yearning for attention from the man for reasons she didn't even know and, because of past turmoil in these kinds of situations, preferred not to know. '_Aoshi-sama…I'll never understand why you left me, and I think I've found someone who won't be such…such a JACKASS.'_ Finished with her mental abuse of the only person she'd dared to love, she focused on her surroundings and found herself nowhere in sight of Shinta nor Soujiro. As soon as she was sure of that fact she opened her mouth to scream, but a black-garbed hand closed around before she could let it out. She furiously bit the hand which caused it to pull back, and she let out the scream of pure terror before she felt an impact on her neck and collapsed, a figure completely dressed in black with a katana sheath on his back picked her up, and took her off.

Soujiro and Shinta reached the area where the scream had came from-Soujiro's hearing had always been acute, and he'd located the origin quite easily, and the man froze when he saw the note, and the clear handwriting. He picked it up and frowned, one word coming to mind. '_Oniwabanshuu…'_.

And so ends the second chapter of my story. Not too much happening, a bit of character building, and the beginning of the plot. I plan to make things very odd, but if you don't like twisted versions of characters stay away from the next couple of chapters, because that's probably all you'll find. You've been warned. And now for the special thanks!

Devil-First of four reviewers! Highest I've ever gotten on a first chapter! Arigato gozaimasu!

Phoe-chan-What else can I say? I've been reading your stories for a while, and you've inspired me to write again! I hope to gain as rabid a following as you have, but I know that won't happen for a while. [grin] But miracles do happen, ne?

Kyouhi-Thanks for reading! I know I haven't been alive for god-knows-how-long other than to pop in for the occasional review, but things have been all amiss and such things. As it is I am deadly intent on finishing the story, so intent that even Battousai couldn't stop me…err, that is, if he didn't go Mitsurugi on me, but that's another story.

Well folks, I think that encompasses all I have to say, other than read and review!


	3. Retrieving Lost Feelings

Ryu no Koe

Voice of Dragon

A Soujiro/Misao fanfic done by

Joak Drysso

Chapter 3: Retrieving Lost Feelings

Soujiro's arm fell numbly to his side, the note from the Oniwabanshuu still running through his mind, the words burned into his retina. And as the moment dragged on, he found himself getting angrier, angrier. He absolutely _hated_ it when other people were hurt because of his actions. Apparently the group of assassins felt it necessary to challenge him yet again. He would have thought that the whole incident last time-a confrontation that brought all nine of them close to death from numerous, but not lethal wounds-would have taught them to stay away from him.

A small sniffle came from his side, jarring Soujiro from his thoughts and he turned, crouching down and encircling Shinta with his arms, letting the boy sob into his shoulder. He whispered words of hope into the boy's ear as he picked him up. There was nothing else for him to do, and he had to get Shinta out of the cold before he went hypothermic. He kept quiet on the way back to the house about the second part of the message, where it detailed a place for them to meet, a time, a day. It was a setup, that much was obvious, but Misao's life was on the line, and that was way too much for the assassin not to do anything about it.

The anger soon subsided, and the cool, calm analyst took over, plotting on how he should prepare for the night of a lifetime. He found himself inside and ushered Shinta off to take a nap as he himself gathered the items that would help him through this hellish ordeal. As he prepared, he cursed himself, cursed the Oniwabanshuu. No one should have to be the bargaining chip between the Tenken and the Oniwabanshuu. It'd end in chaos one way or the other, and he was NOT willing to let her lose her life because he screwed up.

He opened the drawer and pulled out a stash of arms suitable for a small army. Though he normally hated the modern-aged weaponry, most of his partners tended to love spraying corridors with uzis and wasting ammunition. He found himself grabbing a Glock .9 millimeter semi-automatic, inspecting the gun meticulously before tossing it onto a futon. He then shut the drawer, and let a sigh escape. If he felt the need for a gun…this event would get really ugly really quick. But as he looked at the weapon, he thought on it. It didn't require as much finesse to wield as a sword did, but in a sense that would give him a minor advantage, because he could snap off a few shots to put them into disarray and then dispatch of them one at a time. Maybe if he took the time to line up-hell, If he could _afford_ the time to line up a shot-he could take one of them out with a single shot before he had to switch weapons. He then grabbed Yami no Ken from its resting place on one of the walls and tossed it on the futon as well. He slipped into a side room and exited a few minutes later, dressed in a dark blue gi and black hakama. He smiled, that ruthless, emotionless Tenken smile that struck fear into the hearts of even the Yakuza overlords, the Japanese mafia that continued to ruin the lives of so many people. Both the handgun and the katana were placed in the obi, and he kneeled to pray. "Osiris…give me strength." How awkward was that, praying to the god of life and death? Of course, it made a perverse kind of sense, but that was only because he was a tangible god of life and death. He chose which people he would kill and which he would spare.

That brief prayer ended and he leapt up into the air, his sword flying out of the sheath blindingly fast, weaving a streak of blue-black light in the aftermath that faded. From his position in the air he executed a spinning slash, landing on his feet for a mere second, this time a low jump that had him doing a psuedo-cartwheel, a move engineered to duck below a high slash and avoid a thrown weapon at the same time. He landed, aiming a sideways slash at an invisible foe before jumping back, presumably to avoid another cut. He weaved side to side, dodging unseen strikes before raising his sword to block the ones he could not dodge. Then he shoved the attacker's blade back and went on the offensive himself, switching his sword to his right hand. He leaned forward and the hand and katana became a blur, but he mentally counted the blows and stopped when they reached one hundred, finishing with a clean cut to the head. Then he twirled his sword and shoved it back, gutting yet another enemy, spinning and letting out a feral snarl as the blade tore imaginary flesh, splitting his foe in half.

This continued for a good hour, and he eventually hit the Shuku-chi within that hour, appearing for the last attack in midair, looking at the floor, sword sheathed, in perfect battou-jutsu stance midair. "Yokushin Ryu no Ryu!" He said softly, so as not to wake Shinta. "Denkou Sen!" The cuts were unseen, and the blade seemed to just transport from its place in the sheath to the finishing pose of any iaijutsu, and he landed on one knee, his eyes watching the stool that had been the unfortunate target of the brutal assault, smiling in satisfaction as it split into hundreds of fractional bits. He stood up, breathing heavily, a grim, determined look on his face as he moved to clean himself up and relax until the night came. '_Misao…I'm coming.'_

A groan came from behind Soujiro, and the assassin, already jumpy just because of the circumstances, spun, sword flying from his sheath and splitting the car engine in two, the heavy metal objects falling to the ground and making aloud sound. He breathed, midnight blue eyes traveling around the junkyard, a bit frantically. He had been in a heightened state of awareness since he'd gotten to the place, and if he kept it up it'd eventually get him killed, so he took a minute to breath and relax, to calm down.

That minute nearly cost him his life. Around him, several piles of junk began to shake and collapse in on him, and he saw no way out other than to announce his presence even more visibly. He shot straight up into the air, through a gap in the piles as they crashed into the ground. He landed on an old Mustang and jumped back off, handgun coming out in one hand, concealed by the dark of night. The graceful jump brought him into the air, and he took careful aim, letting a shot off. He watched with a grim smile as the bullet struck home, and the Oniwabanshuu ninja fell to the ground. He wasn't dead, but he might as well be-the bullet struck his spine, he would be immobilized for a while. Hearing the sound others took off after it, and he line up another set of shots, each one striking at the intended place, disabling, but not killing them. As he landed he spun, pistol-whipping at the figure behind him, clocking the woman some five times before he smashed it into her jaw and then threw it straight into her head, knocking her out cold. Next came the sheath itself, smashing into the face of the other female higher-up ninja. In a second she was out, suffering from numerous blows from the sheath. He jumped away, and was immediately swatted down by a radiator, the heavy bit of machinery slamming into his side. He cried out in pain as he hit the ground, rolling out of the way a second before the radiator hit. He felt a swift kick connect with his back, knocking him up into the air a bit, and then another one that knocked him some five or six feet higher. He saw Aoshi's grim face and snarled, rolling in midair so that the next kick impacted against his shins. He heard the cry of pain and his sheath met body, sending the fool flying.

He walked towards Aoshi, holding his side, feeling the pain from the radiator. "Seta Soujiro. I expected you to come here. So glad you didn't disappoint me." He grinned mirthlessly at the younger assassin, who stared back at him. "Word to the wise, Aoshi. The most dangerous moves in a game are the ones you expect your opponent to make." As if to punctuate that statement, there was a loud, but childish cry and then a small form appeared, delivering a painful flying kick to the gut of one of the ninjas that had been sneaking up on Soujiro, and Shinta landed on the ground, glaring at Aoshi. "Traitor!"

Aoshi only looked at the boy with annoyance, and then waved. Some thirty ninjas came out of the darkness. "Take the boy out. Leave the man to me."

Shinta watched warily as they came towards him, and kept close to Soujiro, though he knew that if he even tried to distract Soujiro, Aoshi would take advantage of it. So he suddenly took off, ignoring Soujiro's cry and Aoshi's yell of attack, running to a separate part of the junkyard. There he hid, underneath the driver's section of a broken car. For the first strike, he'd need the element of surprise. If he could get the first hit off…then he was sure he could get the rest of them one by one. Sure enough, one of them came close enough to the broken window and Shinta launched, executing a snap kick that rocked the man's head. Using his momentarily prone body as a springboard, he launched, spinning in midair with his foot jutting out, a technique he'd seen in a video game and had tried in real life. In desperation, he realized he'd gotten it right, and grinned mercilessly as the powerful hurricane kick connected several times with his intended target. He hit the ground and launched backwards, landing just in front of another member, and right as he attacked, Shinta jumped over, doing a backwards somersault and raising his hands, delivering a brutal double overhand blow to his head. That was three down. He moved to another two, taking one out with a kick to the face and using him as leverage to jump over the second one, his hands lashing out and grabbing the man's head, twisting his neck. Misao had taught him never to use lethal force, but this was an instance where he had no choice. He continued his rampage with a shot to the crotch, followed by a rising uppercut that hit square in the chin. He kicked another in the neck, and brought a third down with a one-two combo to the face.

The remaining twenty-two backed off, judging the child. That was when they brought out their weapons, naginatas and ninja-to. What surprised them was when he pulled a set of kunai out of his blue gi. He leapt into the air about twenty feet, and they followed, all lunging toward him. He smiled ferally, grabbing four kunai. He flung them, lacing one of their sides with the small daggers, and he fell. Another four were grabbed, and another fell, and then another. :: He grabbed the last four, and with all his might, threw them at one of them. The motion of this threw him far off to one side, and as the fourth victim fell, so did a fifth, to a brutal combination of fists and feet. A mid-air roundhouse met with a fourteenth victim, and the other sixteen finally understood that this was no normal kid. Shinta landed and shot forward, and the battle continued.

Meanwhile, Soujiro had blocked Aoshi's initial strike, quite easily, and was now involved in a sword wrestling match, and was losing because of the taller man's superior strength. He jumped backward, Aoshi quickly following, twin kodachi forming an x. "Oniwabanshuu Kodachi Nitoh Ryu, Gokou Juji!" He lunged forward, attempting to cut Soujiro's head off with the cross-blade attack. Soujiro, however, knew how to counter it, and so he jumped straight forward, bringing his sword back over his head and then pulling it down as hard as he could, the blade smashing right through Aoshi's attack, and giving the man a thick scar across his chest. Soujiro pressed the advantage and made another few slashes before Aoshi's guard could come back up. "Where is she?" Soujiro asked calmly, watching Aoshi. "She's right where I want her to be…" The ninja said, eyes gleaming with a repressed glee at the anger that now contorted the assassin's face. "Sou-chan!" A cry from a familiar voice interrupted both of them, and they looked up to the source. Two very different reactions happened once they saw Misao, Soujiro's face brightening and Aoshi's darkening. "You little brat…" Aoshi started forward, but was stopped by Soujiro, who used the Shuku-chi to appear in front of Aoshi, blocking his path. "Not today, Aoshi. You've just lost your only bargaining chip. Now I have no reason to hold back!" With that, he lunged forward, smiling coldly, the smile of the Tenken…

Chapter 3 is done! Whoohoo! Yay! This fic is the only one I've update past twice. Feel proud of me. Now, shout-outs!

Devil-Thanks for reviewing again! And I'm not sure about great job, but I'm trying to get the job done, so I hope you'll stick around for the rest of it.

Chaos-I tried my best to keep them In Character, but I will admit, I distorted Aoshi quite a bit. It was all to bring Soujiro and Misao closer together. Besides, it's alternate universe, no one has to follow the same rules, ne?

Phoe-chan-Thanks for the compliment on the fight scene. I try, and it's just because I have way too much time on my hands and I have semi-violent friends. And I wanted Misao to be stronger than she was in the series. I mean really, she and Kaoru took a while to take out Kamatari even though Yahiko, who is so much younger than either of them, took out Hennya by himself!

Argentum Draco-Don't worry, I'm trying hard to get this story done. It's something that I really need to do, just to get my writing confidence back up to par with what it used to be.

Genki-assassin-You mean you didn't read my fic because you saw it? *attempts to look sad, fails* Oh well, at least you read it, and reviewed! That's all that matters, ne?

Chapter 4 Coming to a fanfiction.net near you!


	4. Heeding the Call

Ryu no Koe

Voice of Dragon

A Soujiro/Misao Fanfic Written By

Joak Drysso

Chapter 4: Heeding the Call

The air rang with the sounds of metal on metal, as Soujiro's katana met twin kodachi. Arranged in a cross-block, Aoshi used his taller and physically stronger stature to push Soujiro back. Slowly but surely he pushed the shorter man backwards, finally pushing him slightly off-balance. He used that time to dart a kodachi away and to the side, sliding it against the skin of Soujiro's left arm as the smaller figure darted to the right. Narrowing his eyes, Soujiro stumbled backwards, ignoring the slights of pain he received from the wound on his arm. His breath was hot on the cold air of nighttime winter, and visible clouds of smoke rose, as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He was waiting for that one moment when Aoshi would strike.

Sure enough it came as the taller man rushed, outstretching one kodachi and trailing the second one. Soujiro batted the first one away with ease, twisting his katana to knock the second one aside and immediately bending forward as his leading blade came back around. Aoshi attempted to catch Soujiro in a pincer attack, but he came up short of victim and short of breath as Sou's hilt met his gut. Almost immediately, Soujiro shoved the blade into the ground and used that as a pivot point as he gripped the hilt and kicked up, rotating over the blade and landing on the ground, immediately bringing the sword out of the ground and into another parry of Aoshi's sword. From his current stance Soujiro had Aoshi at a distinct disadvantage. So he used it. Maintaining the strength needed to keep his blade parallel to the ground he dashed forward, forcing Aoshi's block down; and consequently to the side.

Cold metal plunged into Aoshi's skin, and the man gritted his teeth as he stepped back and away from the blade that now dripped of his blood. Soujiro grinned and resumed his battle-ready stance, gripping the hilt tightly. He was not breathing any heavier, though Aoshi was noticeably changing his breathing patterns. He moved to raise his blade to attack, and winced visibly at the pain that shot through his left arm. The cold had gotten to the wound, and he was going to pay hell in the morning for this. Assuming he was still alive.

Still, he kept his thoughts geared toward the positive side of things and pressed the assault, each attack precisely calculated to do one thing. Push Aoshi back. Each strike forced Aoshi to move backwards to block, and with each step it led them closer to where Misao was struggling against the bonds that kept her there. Finally, Soujiro figured he was close enough and grasped the hilt tightly with both hands, making an intense slash across the midsection that forced Aoshi to step back entirely to avoid being injured by the assault. As the taller man prepared to go on the counterattack, Soujiro's slash brought him across so his good leg could propel him towards Misao. Crouching, he shot forward, stretching out his arm to catch her around her stomach. However, there was one thing he had not counted on.

Aoshi's sadistic grin appeared in front of Soujiro as the tall man cut off the assassin from reaching his maiden and forcing him to continue fighting. However, this section of the fight was rather a one-sided physical assault from Aoshi. The first strike had been to Soujiro's right wrist, making a satisfying hit and successfully disabling that hand. His second blow had been to the midsection, followed up by a one-two leading with the right hand that rocked Sou's head back and forth. An elbow had quickly allowed Aoshi to lead into the second string of assaults, starting with a vicious kick to the gut, using that as a springboard to push up and connect foot with jaw, sending Soujiro sprawling back as Aoshi successfully landed kneeling. Rising he dashed forward, cracking his knuckles, and skidded to a halt over the assassin's struggling form, grasping both hands and delivering a powerful overhand blow to Sou's back. A cry of pain was all Soujiro could let out, before his shoulders sagged and he seemed to pass out. However, Aoshi could not let it rest that easily.

He picked Soujiro's limp form off the ground, and struck him again in the face. As the body seemed to fall backwards he kicked Soujiro in the spine, before lifting him back up and forming a spear with his right hand. Holding the assassin by the chin, the ninja prepared to deliver the killing blow. As the right hand flew toward the neck, a surprisingly powerful, unexplained force met Aoshi's midsection. He released Soujiro as he stumbled back from the sheer power of Soujiro's incredibly strong legs. Soujiro knelt, gasping for air and coughing up bits of blood while Aoshi tried to keep from passing out from the lack of air in his lungs. Soujiro was the first to regain his second wind, and rather than dive for his sword, he rushed Aoshi, letting out a cry of absolute, utter rage that halted everyone able to hear it.

Wild, furious brown met frightened blue as their eyes locked. Aoshi managed to mutter a weak "Shit" before the storm known as Tenken no Soujiro met him. In less than a second, Soujiro had expended a dizzying combo that consisted of three hits to the midsection, followed by a powerful uppercut that led into a kick that sent Aoshi flying a good ten yards before he slammed into the ground. Without giving the Oniwabanshuu leader a moment's rest, Soujiro had already appeared right in front of him, kicking him up to about level with Soujiro's eyes. Grasping Aoshi's head, Sou let out another barbaric shout as he slung the body into another junk heap. As the Okashira struggled to his feet, Soujiro let out gasps of air as he escaped from his daze.

Stumbling over to where Misao was staring at him with wide-eyed terror and admiration, the bloodied man struggled to maintain the concentration required to undo the knot. As soon as the ropes were gone Misao gave the man a tight, tight hug, whispering thanks into his ear as he moved back and forth from unconsciousness to consciousness. As she whispered to him, there seemed to be spaces in between her words. All he could see was her hair in the icy breeze and Shinta bounding up to them, the young boy wide-eyed in total reverence of the man who'd become a brother to him. Soujiro had enough in him, however, to see that Aoshi was not yet finished. So he struggled away from Misao and Shinta, over to where his katana lay on the ground. Grasping it in his left hand, he stood slowly to face an equally battered Aoshi five yards away, both kodachi in hand. As Aoshi prepared for his final attack, Soujiro found a sudden clarity of mind. He could honestly see everything. Astounded, he grasped the hilt of his sword, crouching low.

His front leg extended a great length, and though his sword was unsheathed, it appeared to be a battou-jutsu technique. This was something he had simply been experimenting with, but now it seemed to be the only answer to the end of this fight. "Yokushin Ryu no Ryu…Osiris no…Koe." With that time seemed to slow a great deal for both Soujiro and Aoshi. Each man saw his opponent clearly, but the distance between Sou and Aoshi was being closed rapidly. Three-steps short of the shuku-chi was all Soujiro could manage at this point, but it was enough. Aoshi wasn't ready for such a swift assault, and could barely manage a parry as an onslaught of cuts came from nowhere. In the middle was Soujiro, who was generating a whirlwind of both blade and force, each attack causing both initial cut and a blast of wind that accompanied, impacting against Aoshi and knocking him back. As the assault slowed and faded to nothing, Aoshi felled first, not dead, but severely weakened. As Soujiro collapsed himself, he knew that this would not end things, not in the least. But for the time being, it would help in slowing things down. Now all he had to do was worry about keeping Misao and Shinta safe and all his troubles would be over.

__

Anna ni issho datta no ni 

Yuugure wa mou chigau iro 

Semete kono tsuki akari no shita de 

Shizuka na nemuri wo

Morning arose and Soujiro found himself in his own home, which made him pause for a moment. Wasn't he only just in the junkyard fighting for a woman he hardly knew but had grown to trust and care for? Regardless, he wanted to find out what was going on. So he sat up, only to lay back down as he winced. His entire body seemed to awaken with his movements, screaming in pain. He tried to assess the damage, but it was all too scattered and overpowering for him to make out. So he muttered crossly to himself and simply tried to let the pain go of its own free will. Still, it was too much for him to bear silently and so he let out a silent strangled groan. _A great assassin, reduced to this?!_ Soujiro thought cynically, but he decided to forget about complaining and do something. Slowly, he sat up, ignoring the sharp pains that came from his stomach. Apparently his muscles weren't all that were going to bother him.

Soujiro reflected for a moment on the fight. His ribs were probably damaged from the stronger hits from Aoshi's hand-to-hand onslaught, though Soujiro imagined that in his brief psychotic rampage he had to have repaid the debt and maybe then some. He especially winced when he released that he might have collapsed one of Aoshi's lungs with the kick. That would not be a pleasant realization for the ninja. But it would take a while for him to recover, and since Sou's wounds were likely less severe, he would be ready in time.

He rose from the bed and stumbled over to the bathroom, pausing for a moment to let his vision recollect itself. He took a few more steps and reached the medicine cabinet. Opening it, he fumbled through, found the bottle of ibuprofen and popped two in his mouth, swallowing them down without the assistance of liquid. He relaxed for a moment, and then struggled back into the room. Slowly, and awkwardly, he tested for the least painful way to dress himself, a process which took a good fifteen minutes for both his pants and five for his shirt. When he was finally presentable, he stumbled out and witnessed an amusing sight. Misao and Shinta were decorating a Christmas Tree. He had never thought to put one up for himself, because Christmas by himself was not worth celebrating beyond giving to the kids who wanted but could not afford. He watched them for a few moments, before gingerly picking up an ornament. As Misao and Shinta busied about the tree, they suddenly saw an extra arm reach out and place the golden ornament on one of the branches.

They both turned and saw Soujiro, smiling and trying to hide the bites of pain that continued as he watched the ornament he had just placed bounce up and down on the limb. He leaned back against the sofa and looked back between the two shocked faces, before chuckling, ignoring the pains that wrought havoc on him. Then Misao smiled and giggled herself, while Shinta made ready to charge him, remembering only right before he made the leap that Soujiro was still wounded, and instead hugged the man, and Soujiro picked him up and returned the favor, giving a smiling glare at Misao who was laughing her head off at the sight.

Silent though the night was, Soujiro could not bring himself to sleep. He stepped out onto the balcony of his home, in pants and wrapped in a jacket. The bandages across his chest were visible in the moonlight as he sat down, holding a cup of steaming hot chocolate. He inhaled the scent and brought to his mouth, letting the hot liquid slide down his throat. His body seemed to warm with it, and he sipped a bit more, finally setting it down on the rail. So intent was he on the skies in front of him that he jumped when he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. He turned around to see Misao stepping back, smiling abashedly. "Sumimasen." She bowed low, partially in actual apology, partially to hide the blush that crept across her cheeks. "Daijoubu, Misao-san. There's no problem at all. Would you like to talk?"

"H-hai." She stuttered. A grin crossed Sou's face. The nervousness was apparent on her. "We looked through your entire house, and there wasn't a Christmas item to be seen, other than a rather neatly organized stack of the Christmas Angel slips. Why don't you have anything like that?"

"It's pointless to celebrate by one's self. It takes the surprise out of not knowing what you get when you have to buy your own presents, you know?" He smiled sadly. "Yuki made things different, but it was always at her house. She never felt comfortable out here, but I can't blame her. Were I not as accustomed to being a killer or someone who marvels at the weapons used to kill, I'd be uncomfortable here too." He shrugged, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. When he saw her shiver, he handed it to her, and she took a pull gladly, smiling as the warmth flooded into her body as well. "Really, I've just never understood Christmas."

"Well, that'll change!" Misao said, grinning. "Me and Shinta'll show you what the spirit of Christmas is all about!"

Chapter 4 End


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